Chibitalia and the Cannoli of Comfort
by RussianMochi
Summary: Chibitalia misses Holy Rome a lot. But just how much?


**I just felt really bad for Chibitalia. BTW, I don't ship ChibitaliaXHRE, because I ship no Yaoi, but I just think it's so sad.**

** The first part I just took from the anime, so you can skip that.**

Italy cried, but remembered he had a job to do. He brought the water back to Mister Austria.

"I'm sorry it took so long," Italy said, trembling as fought to contain his sobs.

Austria muttered something that Italy didn't catch. "Italy, why don't you take the day off? If you go around like this, it will only depress us."

Italy felt hurt, but agreed.

After a week, life more or went back to normal. Italy sang a little song about circles to himself while dusting. Even though Austria hated people singing different tunes than the one he was playing on his piano, he didn't stop Italy.

Italy tried to keep his emotions in check, but sometimes Hungary would find him in an empty room, sobbing.

Miss Hungary would sit down, and comfort him. "I know it's hard, Italy. Human's think that immortality is amazing, but they don't realize that it only prolongs our sufferings."

Looking up, Italy asked, "Why would they think that immortality is great? I've been pushed around and bullied for hundreds of years. Sometimes, I wish I could die!"

Hungary hugged him. "We've all felt that way. It's hard, I know. Humans don't realize how good they have it. Their life may be short, but it's very sweet. Ours is long and bitter." She squeezed him. "You know what else is short and sweet? Cannoli! Let's ask Austria if we can make some. You are very good at cooking."

"B-but, since they're an Italian sweet, won't Mister Austria just think that I asked you to ask him?" Italy sputtered. "And then we'll both get in trouble!"

Smiling, Hungary replied, "Don't worry, I think I can convince him!" She walked down the wall to the room where Austria was playing the piano. "You wait out here, Italy," she told him. He nodded.

"Hello, Hungary," Austria greeted without even turning around from his piano. "Please don't think me rude, but could you leave?"

"I will, but don't you think Italy has been very sad lately?" Hungary asked. "I mean, even more than usual."

"I don't know. She hasn't been interrupting my piano playing, so I don't care," he responded.

"Austria!" she exclaimed. "I know you care about Italy just as much as I do. Why do you act so cold? Well, if you're not going help me, then we're going to make cannoli. I'm not even going to get your permission."

Austria stopped playing the piano for a second. Hungary turned around. Austria almost never stopped playing the piano. "It's been ten years today since Holy Rome left. It might not seem that long for you or me, but for Italy, since she's so much younger, it feels like forever."

Hungary blinked, surprised. She knew that it had been a few years, but she had stopped counting the years long ago. "Has it really been ten years? It couldn't have been that long."

"I wouldn't have known either. But then I saw something when I woke her up this morning," he explained. "Check her room later. You'll see."

Hungary exited and looked down at the expectant Italy. "What did he say? He isn't mad at us, is he?!"

"No, he said we could make them," she answered. '_I think.'_ "Go change into some clothes that you don't mind getting dirty and I'll heat up the oil."

"Si!" Italy smiled, looking a little happier. He hurried off to his room. Hungary went to the kitchen and started heating the oil, then got out the flour and sugar. Italy came in wearing a brown dress Austria must have gotten it for him. Hungary wasn't sure why he always bought him dresses. **(Haha, they're all so oblivious.)**

"Oh wait, I forgot my apron!" Italy exclaimed.

"Don't worry; I'll get it for you," Hungary offered. "You get the ingredients for the dough." She hurried down the hall, into his room. 'Apron, apron, apron,' she repeated while looking through the clothes on the floor. She checked under the bed, and that's where she found it. It was two jars, one unlabeled and full of brightly colored stones and buttons. The other was relatively empty, and marked, "How Long It Has Been" in Italian. Inside of it were ten of the stones. This was what Austria had meant.

"Miss Hungary! Miss Hungary!" She heard Italy yell from the hall. She raised her head so suddenly she banged it into the bedframe. Biting her tongue to hold back a few choice swears, she quickly shoved the jars back into their original place and tried to look like she had been searching for the apron the entire time.

"Oh, Miss Hungary. Did you find my apron?" Italy asked.

"Erm, no. You really shouldn't throw your clothes on the ground when you go to sleep," she chided, while desperately holding back tears from the pain.

"Oh, Miss Hungary?"

"Hmm?"

"Here it is! Right on the door hook." Italy pulled it down on top of himself.

"Well, those cannoli aren't going to make themselves! Let's get going!" she paraded down the hall, Italy following close behind.

The years passed by much faster as Italy got older. His voice changed, he stopped wearing maid costumes, and eventually, he left Austria's household. But he never stopped putting a stone in the jar every year. He didn't love Holy Rome anymore, but he did miss him. He wanted to say he was sorry, and he wanted to eat cannoli with him. He did that every year.

Until World War I.

After he met Germany, he became too busy, and forgot to put a stone in the jar. He forgot that he wanted to eat cannoli with the boy from his childhood. But maybe something had clicked in Italy's mind without him realizing. Maybe it was because he was so busy because of his new commander. And maybe it was the person who had found him in the box of tomatoes. Maybe it didn't matter anymore, because maybe the person who trained him, protected him, and was his best friend, was the person he wanted to eat the cannoli with. Maybe he had already found Holy Rome the year he stopped putting stones in the jar.

**IDK if cannoli existed back then. They just taste so gooooooood!**

**I know this seems sorta Yaoi, but it's not. I want Germany to be HRE, but I don't want him to love Italy. I just want him to be better friends because of it.**

**I think that HRE is Germany. I know a lot of people do.**


End file.
